McSpock
by The Cheshire Cheese
Summary: A drinking contest leads to a romantic confession, interrupted by a horrifying transporter accident! Dr. McCoy and Mr. Spock have been fused into one man. And at the worst of times, with the Enterprise in charge of negotiations with the Piganoid emperor. Can McSpock save the mission, or will his conflicting nature be his downfall? (Oneshot spoof, with mild slash.)


**A/N: Though I'm a lifelong Trekkie, I've only recently started to become invested in the Original Series and its potentials for slash. **

**I have many other, more epic Trek fanfics to work on (plus one for "Casablanca") and I had hoped to update one of those tonight. But the can of Mike's Harder Lemonade I just downed made me realize that it would make far more sense to write a gay slash fic about everyone's favorite Vulcan and sourpuss doctor. **

**I do not own "Star Trek."**

* * *

"Keep drinkin' ya babeh!"

The chief engineer and chief medical officer faced each other across a small table in the mess hall, separated by a wall of overturned shot glasses. Around them, their shipmates cheered and goaded them on, making bets on whether the grizzled American would out-drink the jolly Scotsman. Captain Kirk and Commander Spock were the only close friends not present. Whether the captain or the Vulcan would approve of a drinking contest, McCoy wasn't certain. Spock probably wouldn't consider it "logical." But Jim might give them some slack.

"Come on Bones!" Nurse Chapel clapped her hands like a soccer coach. "You're a man of medicine, you need the first-hand experience to understand your patients!"

"Aw can it ya dumb broad. Don't think I don't think yer betting money on me!"

"Of course I am Doctor, would I be any kind of a loyal assistant if I bet on your opponent?"

McCoy made a face and silently mimicked her, reaching drunkenly for another glass.

"He can't handle it!" Sulu jeered. "My money is on the Scotsman."

"You know," Chekov turned to Sulu. "The Russians _inwented_ drinking games—"

Sulu interrupted to cry out and point in shock, as McCoy downed another shot.

Captain Kirk's voice suddenly came over the speakers, cutting over the commotion in the mess hall: "Doctor McCoy, please report to the shuttle bay."

"Aw crimeny, is it 0-hundred already?" the Doctor pushed himself up, and fell backwards, caught by Sulu. He pointed at Scotty, and slurred, "We'll finish this when I'm back from that away mission!"

"Doctor," Nurse Chapel looked slightly concerned. "Are you certain you're fit for duty? I can relieve you and join Mr. Spock, if you—"

"_I'M SOBER_!" the doctor bellowed, so loudly that the nurse's blonde beehive wig nearly tumbled off. "'Scuse me." He cleared his throat, swaying where he stood. "I can handle all the Romulan Ale in the sector, I'm an AMERICAN!"

Straightening her hair, the nurse nodded obediently to the doctor, and watched him stumble out of the mess hall. Once the doors closed behind him, she hurried into his empty chair.

"I'm the second-in-command medical officer," she explained, weaving her hands together on the table. "I take over when the good doctor is no longer available." Daintily she reached for another glass.

"Soonds like a deal Nurse." Scotty belched. "Git meh drunk enough, I _might_ even start ta find ye attractive!"

The crowd around the table "_Oooo_!"ed.

"I was gonna say the same about you, but Bones didn't leave over quite enough booze for _that_ to happen."

Roars of laughter from the crowd.

* * *

Kirk paced in the transporter room, bobbing his fist under his chin. "Imagine it, Mr. Spock. A guy like Bones being late for an away mission. Why he's been talking about this meeting with the Piganoid Royal Family for weeks!"

"Indeed, Captain."

The doors hissed opened and Doctor McCoy stumbled in, with his med kit slung over his shoulder. He was half-singing, half-muttering, some odd little drinking tune to himself: "_Hey, ho, to the bottle I go, to heal my cock n' drown my woe…rain may fall, whores may blow, but there'll still be_…god dammit I'm lost again. Is this the transporter room?"

"Yes it is Bones," Kirk nodded, looking at his old friend suspiciously. "You…seem a bit under the weather today Bones. You sure you don't wanna take the day off and let Nurse Chapel handle it?"

"What's everyone keep tellin' me ta hand the mission over to that blonde broad an' her sexy legs? I'm _fine_ god dammit! Let's get this transport-technobabble-gobledy-goop over with and study us some Piganoids!"

Kirk nodded slowly. "I see. Alright Bones, it's your decision."

The Doctor spun on his heel, his med kit swinging. Then he spun the other way; he was looking for the transporter pod. Eventually, Spock stepped forward and gently pushed the doctor in the right direction.

Kirk leaned over and whispered to Spock: "The doctor doesn't seem quite like himself today, Mr. Spock. I've known Bones a long time, and I'm telling you, something's off. I think he might be possessed by an alien intruder. Or maybe he _is_ the alien intruder, and the real Bones is trapped in some parallel dimension!"

"Captain," the Vulcan whispered back, "You are quite the philosopher. But there are plenty of more simple and more _likely_ explanations. The Enterprise may be passing through a cloud of radiation that will drive the crew insane one by one. Or, the doctor might have consumed some infectious alien food that will eat holes in his brain and drive him to murder us all. Alternatively, this may all be a dream that you or I or both are experiencing, induced by some alien life form to distract us, as it feeds off energy from our unconscious bodies."

"You've got a point Spock. Either way, let's keep an eye on him."

Kirk and Spock stepped onto the transport platform.

Kirk gave a nod to the redshirt crewman at the transport controls. "Alright Mort, you can go ahead and beam us down."

"Uh…oookaaay…" Crewman Mort slowly hovered his finger over the controls. Young and fresh out of Starfleet, he had not been picking things up as quickly as an Enterprise officer should.

"Captain," Spock said quietly, "I must question whether Crewman Mort is Enterprise material."

Watching the young crewman fumble and the controls, Kirk whispered, "I give everyone a fair chance Mr. Spock."

"Might your lax standards have something to do with the number of crewmen who die clumsy, violent deaths on a regular basis?"

Kirk opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off by McCoy.

"A _woman_! Y'all wanted ta replace me with a blasted female! Let me tell ya boys something, don't y'all _never_ trust women! I learned it the hard way, when the ex-wife took everything, down to ma bones!"

Kirk closed his eyes and sighed. "_Not again_."

"Well I'm _done_ with women! Ya hear? Finished with 'em! Blasted conspirers and harpies, the lot of 'em. I mean why do we even bother with 'em anyway? What can ya do with a woman that ye can't do a hundred-and-one times better with a man?" He bellowed the last sentence while turning to stare drunkenly at Mr. Spock. "Hell Ears, I'll even take _you_ over any woman, any day!"

"I will keep that in mind Doctor." The Vulcan replied impassively.

Kirk blinked, bemused.

"What I don't get," McCoy swung and arm around the Vulcan, wagging his finger. "What I don't get is, why's our Captain," he pointed at Kirk, "letting Orion slave girls and moon princesses and every other dame around the galaxy spongin' up all his attention, when he's got a whole ship full o' loyal, strong, strappin', handsome, dashing dudes, right here, on this very starship?"

Without turning to face the doctor, Spock replied, "I believe the term is 'heterosexual,' doctor."

"_Headache_-o-sexual's more like it!" McCoy declared, leaning in much too close to Spock.

The doctor and the Vulcan stared at each other for many long moments. Kirk watched them, blankly. Meanwhile, the crewman continued to ponder the transporter controls. Then McCoy threw up his arms, and clapped his hands onto Spock's cheeks. Before the Vulcan had time to work out what was happening, McCoy yanked him into a long smooch.

Kirk's eyebrows went up, impressed with his old friend's assertiveness. After so many years, he'd been starting to think Bones would never get laid again.

"I GOT IT!" the crewman suddenly screamed, and brought his pointer finger down onto a big red button.

Mort had the sequence correct, but had failed to switch off one of the functions he'd previously tried. The result was that transport was initiated, but a charge of electricity also shot from the consol, and the young redshirt was barbecued within seconds.

Kirk wearily dropped into a face palm. As he did, he, Spock, and McCoy all vanished in a transporter hum, McCoy and Spock still kissing…

* * *

Three people were beamed off the Enterprise, but only two beamed into the ballroom of the Palace Piganoid. Pig-People in royal attire turned to watch the awaited guests of honor, as they materialized. When the transport was complete, Captain Kirk stood in the middle of the room, and next to him, an ill-tempered looking Vulcan. Kirk frowned slowly, as he stared at his new companion.

The man next to him had Spock's pointed ears and eyebrows. His hair was dark brown, darker than McCoy's, but not black like Spock's. It was cut into a bowl style, but the bangs in the front were swished to the side, like McCoy's hairdo. His blue eyes definitely looked more like Bones.' His expression certainly had some of Bones' grouchiness in it; but it also had some of Spock's calm Vulcan composure.

Slowly, Kirk asked, "Who are you?"

The man gave it some thought. "I'm not quite certain." His voice was monotone like Spock's, but gravely like Bones.' "I believe I was very drunk until a few moments ago, so it's difficult to remember. No no, wait, I wasn't drunk, it was the _doctor_ who was drunk, and he kissed me. No, _I_ kissed the big ruggedly handsome Vulcan…or I _was_ the ruggedly handsome Vulcan…" he squinted. "That's odd. I can't seem to remember which man I was…Ah, of course! Captain, I believe there has been a transporter accident. Commander Spock and Dr. McCoy have been merged, into…Spcoy! No…McSpock!"

The camera zoomed in dramatically on Kirk's shocked face, violins screeching.

And then, a commercial aired, advertising Quiznos sandwiches, narrated by a talking kitten who sounded like Stan from "South Park."

Kirk, McCoy, Uhura, and Sulu all stood in sickbay, while Nurse Chapel scanned McSpock.

"It's them alright," she confirmed. "The doctor and Spock have been merged. It was a combination of factors, I'd say. The alcohol in McCoy's system; the fact that he and Spock were in such close proximity when it happened; and the crewman pressing the wrong controls."

"Captain," Uhura urged, "What should I tell the Piganoid Ambassador? The Emperor's very offended by the way you and…McSpock…left so quickly. The Ambassador warned me that his people are very judgmental of others, and may back out from joining the Federation if they found out that…well…"

"What?" a heavily hung-over Scotty scoffed. "That our senior officers are drinkin' on the job, an' oor redshirted underlings can't follow through one order without dying in some horrible way?"

McSpock suddenly spoke up. "Perhaps I should meet with the Piganoids, Captain. I possess both the logic and emotional restraint of Mr. Spock, and the Southern gentlemanly manners of Dr. McCoy. I could impress the Emperor with my vast knowledge of Piganoid physiology and culture."

"Now you mention it," Kirk mused, "That's not such a bad idea…"

* * *

The Piganoid Emperor and his subjects patiently awaited the postponed visit from the famed Captain Kirk, drinking and mud-bathing and gossiping amongst themselves. Finally, the transporter hummed once more, and a party of people materialized in the ballroom.

Kirk and McSpock stepped forward, followed by Uhura and a couple of redshirts. Given the delicate situation, Kirk had figured it would be a good idea to bring a backup diplomat, in case McSpock wasn't all the suave speaker he claimed to be. And as usual, he'd brought a few redshirts, just in case all hell broke loose and he'd need someone to take phaser shots or distract hungry alien monsters for him.

The Piganoid Emperor came to greet the captain. He was dressed in an iridescent blue outfit that looked like something out of 1700s France, with a tall wig to match. "Captain Kirk!" the Piganoid growled. "It is an honor to finally meet the Federation's flagship's captain! Though it'd be more of an honor if you were on time."

"Yes…forgive me Your Eminence. We…experienced technical difficulties. This is my first officer, and chief medical officer, Doc…Com…Mr. McSpock."

"Greetings, Your Majesty." The Vulcan/Southerner hybrid bowed. "I am well versed in your Piganoid ways, and have a deep medical knowledge of Piganoid physiology…"

Behind him, Kirk was dipping into another face palm, and Uhura was rolling her eyes skyward, as if begging for some divine intervention to save them.

"Why, just last year, I discovered a cure for the Swine Flue on Tessike Prime, saving the entire Hogatron colony—"

"We are not Hogatrons!" the emperor snorted. "Hogatrons are traitors to our race! They value food over mud baths, when any Piganoid who has read the sacred scriptures knows that the Divine Swine demand both get equal reverence!"

Uhura sighed and came up beside McSpock. "What the good Commander meant, Your Excellence, was that he was forced to spend time among an inferior swine race, all the while wishing that he could instead speak with the much revered Emperor Pygmalion the Twelfth."

Catching on, McSpock nodded quickly. "Indeed, my good Emperor. I have longed my entire live to view the majesty and perfection of the Piganoid race. For no Vulcan ears, however pointy, contain the elegant floppiness of a Piganoid's. And no Southern manners, however Southern and gentlemanly, can match the jovial hospitality of a Piganoid Monarch and a palace of mud-baths."

Emperor Pygmalion laughed merrily. "Captain Kirk, I think I'm beginning to like you Federations!"

The ball went quite smoothly after that. McSpock swapped jokes and philosophical conversations with various Piganoids over drinks; had mud fights with them in the mud Jacuzzi located in the middle of the ballroom (fully clothed); won a belching contest; and even danced with the Emperor's eldest daughter. When it finally came time to wrap things up, Kirk, Uhura, McSpcok, and the redshirts gathered back to the spot where they'd first transported.

"Well Your Highness," Kirk said, "I do hope you choose to join the Federation. But if not, we won't take it personally."

"I don't think I could possibly refuse!" Emperor Pygmalion laughed, with a belch. "And I don't think you're Dr. McSpock will be able to refuse either, when I offer him the hand of my daughter!"

Kirk stared a moment, then blinked. "Come again?"

From behind the emperor, a female Piganoid came forward, holding her skirts. Dressed like a Baroque princess, with an elaborately adorned blonde wig that put all of the beehives on the Enterprise to shame, the princess batted her eyelashes at McSpock.

"McSpock," the emperor grunted, "I present my firstborn daughter, Titania. You will be married at dawn."

"My lord," McSpock tried, "Surely I am not worthy of your royal daughter."

"But of course you are! You are the only man in the Federation worthy. No race but the Vulcans has ears pointy enough for a Piganiod, or knowledge of a climate hot and muddy enough for a Piganoid; and no culture but your Southern one has knowledge of sizzling barbecues and proper corn tilling, to match a Piganoid's. Why, it's as if you were created by the Divine Swine himself, just for my daughter! Just to unite the Piganoid People to the Federation!"

McSpock licked his lips thoughtfully. "Supposing Titania and I were just really, really good friends?"

Titania narrowed her eyes at him.

Emperor Pygmalion would not be dissuaded. "Supposing only way for you to bring the Piganoid People into your Federation is to marry my daughter!"

McSpock sighed. "What if I told you that I was gay?"

"I did not say 'shag' my daughter, I only said 'marry.'"

Seeing there was no way out of it, McSpock finally gave it. "Very well. When will the ceremony be performed?"

"Immediately." The emperor turned to his daughter. "Titania, do you accept this alien as your lifelong mate?"

"I do," Titania squealed.

"McSpock, do you accept this Piganiod bell as your livelong mate?"

Eying all possible exits in the room, and finally chickening out, McSpock said, "I do."

"Then if anyone objects to this union, let him speak now or forever—"

A green phaser blast suddenly cut through the room, and vaporized the emperor where he stood! Titania squealed with horror, grabbing her face.

"_I object_!" a voice snarled.

After a pig noblewoman screamed and dropped her goblet, and the Piganoid Ambassador feinted into the mud Jacuzzi, all heads turned to look at the intruder standing in the doorway. A Piganoid man step into the ballroom, his ray gun ready to fire again. He looked different from the other Piganoids; his snout had tusks, and his straw-colored hair was dry and unruly, absent of a wig. He was dressed like a space pirate.

While everyone else was focused on the murderer, McSpock ran a tricorder through the air, where the Emperor had stood moments before. "He's dead Jim!"

"Titania is mine!" the Piganoid pirate declared. "Our forbidden love is stronger than any snot-nosed traditions and any socio-classist laws!"

Titania huffed and blew a raging snort through her nose. "Balthazar, _how_ many times do I have to say it? _We're finished_!"

"Oh give me a chance woman! I know I have a rugged exterior, but I'm a nice guy deep down!"

"So nice that you forgot me on that moon, while you were sailing away in your newly commandeered spacecraft? You know what I went through the next month? I had to _buy_ my passage off that rock with an Andorian monk, and spent the next five weeks sweeping his ship's floors like a _peasant_! All the while, having to smell the stench of his soap and cleaning fluids, take baths in bare water with not even a grain of mud mixed in, and listen to his awful Klingon operas, not a single bench concert or flatulence symphony in his entire library! It was hell incarnate Balthazar! Oh, and killing my father? _Very_ weak."

Hoping to prevent more violence, McSpock suggested, "You are the empress now, Titania. And you can surely do with Balthazar whatever you wish."

Titania's face changed as she considered this, and she offered an admitting shrug.

"Oh that's what you think," Balthazar retorted. "You see, I'm not just some lowly Hogatron pirate anymore. I've got a cause now…"

And from every doorway and every window, tusked Hogatron pirates stepped or climbed into the ballroom, closing in on the horrified Piganoids.

"The time of the Piganoids is ended!" Balthazar declared. "The time has come for Hogatrons to claim this system!"

"Captain," McSpock whispered to Kirk. "The Prime Directive clearly forbids the Federation's involvement in an alien conflict."

"McSpock, when you are right you're right! Let's get out of here." Kirk flipped opened his communicator. "Kirk to Enterprise: Scotty, get us out of here!"

"_Aye Cap'ain_."

"Wait!" McSpock grabbed Kirk's arm suddenly. "We can't just leave these poor people! It's immoral!"

"What?!" Kirk squinted at his new friend. "One second ago you were saying—"

"Forget what I said! It was that damned green-blooded hobgoblin in me talking! I'm saying, we stick around and help the injured!"

Even as McSpock spoke, more phaser blasts were cutting through the ballroom, as Piganoid guards and Hogatron rebels ran and ducked and fired.

Scotty's voice came on again: "_I'm confused Captain. Am I beaming ye up, or no_?"

"I don't care what the Captain orders!" McSpock declared. "I'm gonna help these people!" He marched towards one Piganoid guard, who lay nursing a burned kneecap. "Wait…that might not be the most logical thing to do, getting involved in this alien conflict…"

"Bones!" Kirk shouted. "I mean Spock!…I mean…d'oh…"

A Hogatron rebel suddenly vaporized one of Kirk's valuable redshirts. The other redshirt stumbled backwards in shock, tripped backwards out an opened window, and plummeted to his doom.

"Well," Kirk said to the Hogatron who'd killed his crewmen, "If you put it that way." And he threw a punch that knocked the Hogatron into the opposite wall.

"I'm on it!" McSpock rushed to treat the injured Hogatron.

The rebel's snout had been punched inward by Kirk's fist, and he squealed muffled obscenities at the captain. As soon as McSpock reached the rebel, he issued the Vulcan neck pinch, rendering him unconscious.

"No wait!" McSpock cursed. "I didn't mean to do that!" He flipped open his med kit.

Kirk was now rolling around the ballroom, dodging phaser fire and issuing John Wayne punches. Uhura stood in the middle of the chaos, unsure what to do. Not girly enough to scream in terror, nor tomboyish enough to join the men in the fight, she ultimately decided to sample some of the snacks from the refreshments table.

* * *

"Ah cannot _believe_ the Captain's having a brawl without meh!" Scotty pounded the transporter consol angrily.

"Lieutenant," Chekov urged, "I reeeally think we should beam the Ciptin and Uhura and McSpock up now."

Scotty shook his head. "Naw, ye still donna git it Pav. See, the episode's gotta last us exactly an 'oor, not a minute less or moar. So I'll be beaming them ladies oop in, ah," Scotty checked his Mickey Mouse wristwatch. "Five more minutes."

Chekov squinted at the Scotsman. "Cin you possibly repeat yourself…but in a lenguege more closely resembling to English? Or Russian?"

"What?" Scotty wrinkled his nose at the Russian. "Chekov I swar, I laik ye, but sometimes I donna understand a ward ye say."

Getting frustrated, Chekov grabbed Scotty by the shirt and spoke slowly: "I…do nat…understand…your…accent…you...drunk…Irish…twat!"

"Ah." Scotty's face turned sour. "Whoo're ye calling _Irish_?"

"Irish, Scotish, Welsh, same difference. All a buncha' Capitalist pigs."

"I'll shoo ye capitalism, ye commie!"

Scotty threw a punch at Chekov, who dodged it and moved around, getting Scotty in the back with a two-fisted martial arts smack. Scotty swung his fist around, this time getting Chekov in the ear. The Russian was knocked onto the transporter consol, hitting the button that activated the controls. He pushed himself up, unknowingly hitting another few buttons, and slugged Scotty in the jaw. Scotty was knocked into a spin, and landed backwards sprawled onto the transporter consol, hitting even more buttons with his arms. Chekov made to punch him one more time. Scotty rolled out of the way, causing Chekov's fist to slam into the big red button.

Both men looked up at the hum of the transporter.

Three people were beamed up.

One was Mr. Spock, looking down at himself curiously.

One was Dr. McCoy, looking overwhelmed with relief.

And one was a person of uncertain gender. He/she was tall and muscular, with large breasts and a dirty-blonde beehive hairdo, light brown skin, and a gold miniskirt uniform that revealed far too much of his/her hairy legs.

McCoy's relieve vanished, as he looked at the new third person.

Spock popped one eyebrow.

The Kirk/Uhura blend looked around the room with some confusion, and began scratching her/himself. "Uuuh…"

Scotty's face fell. "_Well, ah'll be focked_."

Chekov smiled. "She reminds me of the women back home, een Mother Russia!"

"Haaang on," Scotty reached over and tapped a few controls.

Kirkhura was beamed away for one moment, then beamed back as a very relieved Kirk and Uhura.

"Transpoort's gotta be handled carefully, Captain." Scotty explained. "I think this can all be explained by that one simple fact."

"Noted." Kirk said, stepping off the panel. "I'm off to the bridge to tell Sulu to get us as far away from the Piganoid System as possible. They've entered a Civil War, and we can't be getting involved in an alien conflict."

"Indeed." Spock agreed. "And since McSpock is now technically 'dead,' Princess Titania should not take offense at the fact that he cannot accept her marriage proposal."

"You mean _Empress_ Titania." McCoy corrected.

Kirk, Uhura, Scotty and Chekov hurried down the hall to their regular stations, but McCoy and Spock lingered behind, walking slowly down the hall.

"I gotta say," McCoy admitted, "It was an interesting experience, having a Vulcan's 200 years of logical reasoning to fall back on. Not to mention having pointed ears."

"It was an _most_ interesting experience." Spock strolled onward, his hands behind his back. "I believe I now have a better understanding of what you humans go through, when trying to control your emotions. Of course, being half human myself, I already find it…challenging. But to be three-fourths human, that was an even greater challenge."

"Are ya feeling any conflicting emotions right now?"

"As a matter of fact I am." Spock stopped and turned to face the doctor. "In all my years with Starfleet, I have always maintained that two officers should never become involved romantically. But even I cannot deny that you are an excellent kisser."

McCoy's face brightened. "Well how about that!"

* * *

Nurse Chapel was on her way to sickbay, when a muffled noise made her stop. Curiously and nervously, she backtracked a few steps, and leaned in towards a closed door. Unless she was mistaken, these were Dr. McCoy's quarters. She was definitely hearing McCoy's voice. As well as some grunts and groans that didn't sound quite human. In fact, they reminded her of a night long ago, when she was an exchange student on Vulcan…

"_Ooooh your EARS! They're like…the perfect handles…_!"

Nurse Chapel's eyes bobbed back and forth a few moments, as she pondered how to respond to this. Eventually, she decided that her five seconds of confusion was all the reaction that was needed, and continued onward, vowing to purge what she'd just heard from her memory.

And to think, everyone else on the ship kept insisting Spock was in love with the captain!

* * *

**FIN**

* * *

**A/N: In case it wasn't obvious, this story is not the most original. The plot is borrowed from a "Voyager" episode called "Tuvix." And the word "Piganoid" comes from an episode of "All That" that parodied "Star Trek" (starring the hilarious Lori Beth Denberg as the Piganoid). **

**Hope to get back on track with my serious fics soon. **


End file.
